RELEASE DAY! WIND RIVER LAWMAN by Lindsay McKenna

August 28, 2018

WIND RIVER LAWMAN by Lindsay McKenna
Book 6
Wind River Valley Series


The new novel from the bestselling author of Lone Rider.

Sometimes the war comes to you . . .

After serving as a Navy medic, Dawson Callahan is back in the States and ready to start over. Leaving his native Texas, he heads for the wide open spaces of Wyoming, where he finds work as a wrangler. True, he’ll mainly be wrangling chickens—and wrangling Sarah Carter’s granny, who’s still spry, but in need of a little caregiving. But ranch work is ranch work, and it’s hard to turn down a job offer from the beautiful Sheriff Carter—especially when she deputizes him as one of her lawmen.

Sarah loves her grandmother, but with her law enforcement career keeping her busy, they could both use some help from a strong, steady man. And policing Lincoln County has only gotten tougher since a merciless drug lord arrived in the area. When Sarah takes a bullet on the job, it’s Dawson who comes to her rescue—and though they both thought they left war behind in Afghanistan, they’ll do whatever it takes to protect what’s theirs, even if it means facing down traumas they’ve buried for years. Because love isn’t for the faint of heart . . .

EXCERPT

June 2
Sarah’s eyes widened. There on her personal computer the next morning, was a resume for the ad she’d placed! She quickly scanned the email.

‘My name is Dawson Callaway. Enclosed is my resume’ for your job.’

She sat at her office chair in her own small home that was a block from the courthouse building where the Sheriff’s department was located. It was seven a.m. and she was due to go to work at eight a.m. The only thing good about being the sheriff is that she wasn’t on a shift schedule, which she hated, but had done for too many years earlier. Trying to quell her excitement, she opened up the file that said: RESUME’ on it.

Leaning down, looking at her Apple McIntosh laptop screen, she watched the resume’ open up. As she rapidly scanned it, her heart beat a little harder in her chest. This man was a Texas born ranch wrangler, thirty years old, single and had been in the US Navy as a combat corpsman for over ten years before his enlistment was up.

What were the chances? Sarah let out a soft sigh escape from between her lips, staring at the resume’, reading it again. Making sure she didn’t miss anything. This sounded too good to be true. Was it? In her business as Sheriff, she saw the dregs and the worst of society. Not the best. Without thinking, she touched the screen with her fingertips. Dawson Callaway sounded perfect for the job but she cautioned herself. First, when she got to work she’d run a thorough research on him via law enforcement channels. There was no way she wanted a felon or someone with a bad teen background, working with her dearly beloved grandmother. No way. That was first. Next, after ruthlessly researching his background for law breaking issues, Sarah would contact a friend she had at the Pentagon. He would get her the man’s DD-214 and that would fill in another huge blank about his entire military service, what kind of discharge he got, and if he had any issues within that time frame. People lied all the time. Or they told half truths or half lies, thinking it was all right. And it wasn’t. She wanted to know everything about this Texan (if indeed he had been born in Amarillo, Texas) before setting up a meeting with him to pursue the possibility of being hired as Gertie’s assistant.

She wished she had a photo of him. So, she ran a Google search on him and came up with nothing. That was strange. Most people nowadays had a social media account, and he had no Facebook page, not Twitter account…no…nothing. That raised a red flag up to a point. He was a US Navy medic, a combat trained one, assigned to a Marine Corps company. She was intimately familiar with the Corps because she’d joined at age 18 and left at age 22, but not before serving over in Afghanistan in Helmund Province, one of the most dangerous areas to have a deployment. Yes, every squad in a company had a Navy combat corpsman assigned to them. So that part fit and was accurate.

Sitting back, she wiped her face with her hands, feeling the weight and stress on her shoulders. Funny how she could let the stress in her Sheriff’s side slide off and it was much less troublesome, than family stress. Family was personal as it got and Sarah understood why it was taking a toll on her. She dearly loved Gertie. And she wanted to protect her and find someone who was damn near an angel in quality, mentality and very compassionate, to aid her. And she knew just how long the odds were of finding a man like that.

Her mind canted to the past, to the Navy corpsman in their squad. He was kind, quiet and listened a lot, but didn’t say much. Most of the ones she’d met in those years in the Corps, were all like that. They were someone you’d want at your side if you were bleeding out, knowing you were going to die. There was a streak of compassion in them, a humanity, that Sarah rarely found in anyone but the medical first responder world whether an EMT, paramedic or combat corpsman. There was no question that those in the medical service field were a certain personality type. She hoped with all her heart that Callaway possessed that same kind of personality, but she’d only find out if he passed the first series of rigorous searches. What did he look like? She was dying to find out because she had a knack for reading faces.

Available in paperback, ebook and audio

http://www.lindsaymckenna.com

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UNFORGIVEN by Lindsay McKenna is now available!!!

August 25, 2018

A Marine who was very, very different from the rest of us…..
Warriors for the Light Book 1, UNFORGIVEN
PARANORMAL ROMANCE
REPRINTED August, 2018

Unforgiven by Lindsay McKenna

NOTE TO READERS: This 6-book series first was published under Harlequin Nocturne in 2006. If you have read these books already? DO NOT BUY AGAIN. They are the same story with no changes as the original. If you have not read this series? Then it is available in paperback (by 9.1.18) and ebook, right now. It is on all major platforms except Google.

BACK COVER COPY:
Plucked from the depths of hell, former military sniper Reno Manchahi was hired by the government to kill a thief, but he had a mission of his own. Descended from a family of shape-shifters, Reno vowed to get the revenge he’d thirsted for all these years. But his assignment went awry when his target turned out to be a powerful seductress, a woman who risked everything to fight a potent evil.

They had a combustible connection, yet he struggled to reveal the truth about himself–his Apache upbringing, his Jaguar pride, his death plot. Soon, Reno had to transform himself into a true hero, accept this new love and conquer the enemy that threatened them all. He had to become a Warrior for the Light….

CHAPTER 1 of Unforgiven by Lindsay McKenna

One shot…one kill. The sixteen pound sledge hammer came down with such fierce power that the granite boulder beneath, shattered instantly. A spray of glittering mica exploded into the air and sparkled momentarily around the man who wielded the tool as if it were a weapon. Sweat ran in rivulets down Reno Manchahi’s drawn, intense looking face. Naked from the waist up, the hot July sun beating down on his back, he hefted the sledge hammer skyward once more. Muscles in his thick forearms leaped and biceps bulged. Even his breath was focused on the boulder. In his mind’s eye, he pictured Army General Robert Hampton’s fleshy, arrogant fifty-year old features on the rock’s surface. Air exploded from between this thinned lips as he brought the avenging hammer downward. The boulder pulverized beneath his funneled hatred. One shot….one kill…..

Nostrils flaring, he inhaled the dank, humid heat and drew it deep into his massive lungs. The only way he felt alive was to picture Hampton on every rock face he destroyed. Revenge allowed Reno to endure his imprisonment at a US Navy brig near San Diego, California. Sweat soaked his shoulder length black hair. Droplets of sweat were flung in all directions as the crack of his sledge hammer claimed a third boulder victim. Mouth taut, Reno moved to the next boulder. The other prisoners in the stone yard gave him a wide birth. They always did. They instinctively felt his simmering hatred, the revenge that was palpable in his cinnamon colored eyes, was more than skin deep. And they whispered he was different.

Reno enjoyed being a loner for good reason. He came from a medicine family of shape shifters. The genes of his heritage was to be able to turn from human into a jaguar at will. But even with this secret and power had not protected him–or his family. What life did he have left? His wife, Ilona, and his three year old daughter, Sarah, were dead. Murdered by Army General Hampton in their former home on USMC base in Camp Pendleton, California. The lusting sonofabitch had stalked his Hungarian born wife while he was deployed to Afghanistan to hunt down Taliban. Bitterness thrummed through Reno as he savagely pushed the toe of his scarred leather boot against several smaller pieces of gray granite that were in his way. A massive black and white striated granite boulder stood in front of him. The prisoners, all military, knew he’d want the big ones. They were happy to give them to Manchahi. They wanted him to take his rage out on the rocks–not on them. Everyone avoided him because he was ‘different’.

LINKS with Amazon.com, BN.com, iBooks/iTunes/Apple and KOBO.com
Amazon:

KOBO.com
https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/unforgiven-48

BN.com
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/unforgiven-lindsay-mckennna/1129331519?ean=2940161877890

IBooks/iTunes/Apple
https://linkmaker.itunes.apple.com/en-us/details/1431209254?country=us&mediaType=books&term=Unforgiven+by+Lindsay+McKenna&type=ebook

DON’T MISS ANY OF THESE ROMANTIC SUSPENSE PARANORMAL BOOK SERIES!

WARRIORS FOR THE LIGHT SERIES 6 romantic suspense that will keep you captured!

EXCERPT #3 DANGEROUS by Lindsay McKenna

May 13, 2018

DANGEROUS by Lindsay McKenna EXCERPT #3

Sloan Kennedy is a badass and she makes no apologies for it.

Sometimes it is more dangerous to try and love someone who walked away from you than facing a firefight….

DANGEROUS by Lindsay McKenna
Book 10, Delos Series
Release: 5.14.18
Pre-order now!!!!

EXCERPT 3, Chapter 1

Sloan…
Dan missed her so damned much he couldn’t put it into words. He’d met her at Bagram, at a canteen. She was an 18 Delta combat medic attached to a Special Forces A team, one of the few women in that role. But damn, that woman knocked him off his feet, grabbed his heart, and never let it go.

Closing his eyes, he finished off the last of his beer. Just thinking about her again, about their torrid affair with one another, made him feel hope. But the crash changed everything. Stretching out on the old couch, he pushed his legs to the other end of it, settling his head against the arm of the sofa. He closed his eyes.

Sloan…

Even as he was coming out of the worst of his nightmare, he remembered their love affair. He pictured her oval face, those kind, understanding gray eyes. He could still feel her long fingers sliding across his body. She had poured all her nurturing care into him, and it made the dirtiness, the terror, and shame he carried over the helo crash, dissolve. And she’d been his until he’d been a jerk and walked out of her life without an explanation. He had no one to blame but himself. Like everything else in his life, he destroyed the good.

Dragging in a ragged breath, he felt sleep taking hold of him again. Sloan…I miss you so damned much. I wish I hadn’t been such a coward…I’m sorry I hurt you. You saved my life that night. You and your team. And I repaid you by walking out of your life and never telling you why.

Grief slid through him, wrapping around his slowly beating heart—grief over losing Sloan. She had been so damned special, and cool and calm in a firefight. He could still remember her whispering words of hope in his ear as she’d leaned over him, trying to stop the bleeding from his shattered right arm that night. Dan knew he was bleeding out from that bullet wound he’d sustained in the cockpit. They could have all died that night, but the captain of the A team got them out of there and into one of the thousands of limestone caves that peppered the Hindu Kush, hiding them from the Taliban.

Dan remembered everything from the days in those darkened caves. The Taliban were crawling around the mountains, hunting them. If the Army tried to send another helo in to rescue their sorry asses, it would have been destroyed.

Through it all, Sloan had tended him. They had been lovers for a year and a half before that, still going together when Dan crashed and got wounded.

The last thing Dan thought as he drifted off into an exhausted sleep was that the joke was on him. It was all his fault that he’d lost the only woman he’d ever, truly cared about, and he ended up living to remember it all—every last detail of that night whether he wanted to or not.

BACK COVER COPY:

Sloan Kennedy and Dan Malloy met at Bagram and shared a passionate month-long affair. Their relationship was supposed to be no strings, but Sloan fell hard for the Night Stalker pilot. Things changed after the two were involved in a rescue mission that ended in the death of Dan’s co-pilot. Riddled with guilt over the accident and the loss of his friend, Dan walked away from Sloan and his military career.

Four years later, Dan is a pilot for Delos, flying team members to their various charities in Sudan. When chatter starts up that terrorists are targeting one of them, Dan is assigned a security escort from Artemis on his next mission. He is shocked when his bodyguard turns out to be the woman who has haunted his dreams for years — Sloan Kennedy.

Thrown together again, old feelings bubble to the surface, but danger is lurking nearby. Sloan and Dan will be lucky to walk away from this mission with their lives-and hearts-intact.


Sloan Kennedy was a badass and made no apologies for it.

LINKS:

Apple/iBooks
https://linkmaker.itunes.apple.com/en-us/details/1360421515?country=us&mediaType=books&term=Dangerous+by+Lindsay+McKenna&type=ebook

KOBO.com
https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/dangerous-66

BN.com
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/dangerous-lindsay-mckenna/1128209201?ean=2940159028648
Come visit me at: http://www.lindsaymckenna.comStay tuned for the next excerpt!

DANGEROUS by Lindsay McKenna EXCERPT #2

May 9, 2018

DANGEROUS by Lindsay McKenna EXCERPT #2

Sometimes it is more dangerous to try and love someone who walked away from you than facing a firefight….

DANGEROUS by Lindsay McKenna
Book 10, Delos Series
Release: 5.14.18
Pre-order now!!!!

EXCERPT 2, Chapter 1

One moment, Dan was conscious in the flailing helicopter. The next, his helmet was struck hard, snapping back his head against the seat, the force of it stunning him into semi-consciousness.

He heard the A-team leader screaming at him to egress. Groggy, he barely lifted his eyelids, his NVGs still in place. He saw several members of the team sprinting toward the wounded helicopter now on the ground. They were screwed. This bird wasn’t going to ever get off the ground again. More noise, screams, and orders, filtered through his semi-conscious state. Trying to unsnap the harness, he found his wounded right arm wouldn’t work. Pain raced up the limb as he fumbled with the clip, trying to get it to release. The smell of fuel was everywhere. The blades were slowing down, the engines off. But he hadn’t been able to reach the fuel bladders to shut off the fuel to the engines. Kerosene was leaking into the helicopter now, the smell making him nauseated. One bullet…one bullet could blow this thing up, and they’d become an instant fireball.

Dan tried weakly to escape, but couldn’t. He felt more than saw two A-team members squeezing into the cockpit area. His brain wouldn’t work. He tried to tell them Andy was wounded, but all that came out was a grunt. The pain was so bad that he felt faint from it. Someone leaned over him, instantly releasing the buckle, the harness opening. Whoever it was, quickly helped him get rid of the nylon straps and he was being hauled out of his seat and into the area behind the cockpit.

He heard things. A woman’s voice? He knew that voice! It was Sloan Kennedy. What the hell? And then, someone jerked the cord from his helmet out of the ICS, and he heard nothing more. Bullets were snapping and flying all around them. The helmet protected Dan’s ears up to a point; all sounds were muffled. He couldn’t make out what was being said by the two soldiers who were dragging his sorry ass out of that helo, trying to save his life. And then, Dan lost consciousness because his wounded arm slammed into the opened door, the agony arcing upward, swallowing him whole.

Jerking into an upright position on his soaked bed, his breathing came in ragged, harsh gasps. He pushed his shaking fingers through his short black hair. Moonlight filtered through his second-story apartment. A commercial jet was taking off from the airport nearby, the sound of the engines vibrating through the thin glass of the open window near his bed.

Damn!

He got up and gripped the dresser nearby, hanging his head. All of the emotions he felt the night of the crash coming back, gutting him once again. He needed a cold beer. Dan glared at the clock on the dresser. It was three a.m. He forced himself out of the tiny bedroom and down the narrow hall to the bathroom. He stunk of fear, sweat still rolling down his chest, the adrenaline making him feel like someone had ripped the skin off his body, leaving him vulnerable to everything about that crash years earlier.

Would the crash ever stop replaying in his dreams? Dan fumbled for the light switch. The bathroom was small, like everything else about this apartment. A cockroach raced up the yellowed wall opposite the plastic-enclosed shower stall. He slammed his palm against it, killing it. The little bastard. The apartment swam with cockroaches. They infested everything, no matter what he did. Never mind the landlord piled garbage outside the building half a story high, and the garbage truck never came around once a week, as it should. He hated Sudan for its lack of basic cleanliness. But it was better than the alternative. People lived in grass huts with dirt floors around them in most places. Here, at the port on the Red Sea, there were stucco homes, but only the rich could afford them. Everywhere else it was squalor, and tents made from pieces of corrugated aluminum. He’d seen this in Afghanistan. Now here.

Dan wanted that beer—he craved it—but he needed a shower first. He felt hot, sweaty, and fevered, turning on the tap for cold water. In October, the heat in Sudan still climbed into the eighties during the day and hovered near seventy-five at night. His air conditioner, if it could be called that, was barely working.

The tap water was tepid but felt damned good as it poured over him. He tipped his head up, eyes closed, his hands on either side of the stall to stop himself from falling because his knees were still shaking. Dan appreciated the water like it was life itself—and in Sudan water was life in this mostly desert country.

He opened his eyes because when they were closed, it dragged him back into the crash—the smells, the sounds, the icy coldness biting into his flight suit covered body. He shook with tension, his breath slowing, but still uneven as he oriented himself to the here and now.
This friggin’ nightmare always hit at full moon time, at least once, sometimes twice in a seven-day period. Those nights were raw, and he bled from his soul. Hot tears jammed into his eyes, and he pressed his brow against the shower stall, closing them, their salty trails spilling into the corners of his opened mouth. He never cried. Not ever. But every time the nightmare happened, he cried no matter how hard he fought against it.

Because of him, Andy had died in that crash when an AK-47 bullet struck his chest. Both A-team medics tried to save his life as the firefight blazed around them, but it was no use.

He was passed out as two of the Special Forces team members carried him out of that helo. He’d awakened minutes later, one medic working over him, the other, working over Andy. Dan could still hear Andy’s gasps and cries. He would never forget that night or the pleading from Andy. That crash was his fault.

His wife Sable was without husband now and their two little girls, Olivia and Karen, without a father. His two crewmen in the rear had also been injured, but not half as bad as Andy and Dan. Andy died an hour later. The rest of them survived to remember it.

God, if only I’d hammered that bird to the ground. Why didn’t I?

Dan felt destroyed by that one question. If he’d stuck the bird, the Taliban wouldn’t have had the target they acquired. Their bullets would have hit the rear side of the helo. Everyone would have been protected to a degree. Andy would still be alive.
He was such a screw-up.

Stay tuned for the next excerpt!

BACK COVER COPY:
Sloan Kennedy and Dan Malloy met at Bagram and shared a passionate month-long affair. Their relationship was supposed to be no strings, but Sloan fell hard for the Night Stalker pilot. Things changed after the two were involved in a rescue mission that ended in the death of Dan’s co-pilot. Riddled with guilt over the accident and the loss of his friend, Dan walked away from Sloan and his military career.

Four years later, Dan is a pilot for Delos, flying team members to their various charities in Sudan. When chatter starts up that terrorists are targeting one of them, Dan is assigned a security escort from Artemis on his next mission. He is shocked when his bodyguard turns out to be the woman who has haunted his dreams for years — Sloan Kennedy.

Thrown together again, old feelings bubble to the surface, but danger is lurking nearby. Sloan and Dan will be lucky to walk away from this mission with their lives-and hearts-intact.


Sloan Kennedy was a badass and made no apologies for it.

LINKS:

Apple/iBooks
https://linkmaker.itunes.apple.com/en-us/details/1360421515?country=us&mediaType=books&term=Dangerous+by+Lindsay+McKenna&type=ebook

KOBO.com
https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/dangerous-66

BN.com
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/dangerous-lindsay-mckenna/1128209201?ean=2940159028648
Come visit me at: http://www.lindsaymckenna.comStay tuned for the next excerpt!

DANGEROUS by Lindsay McKenna EXCERPT #1

May 1, 2018

Sometimes it is more dangerous to try and love someone who walked away from you than facing a firefight….

DANGEROUS by Lindsay McKenna
Book 10, Delos Series
Release: 5.14.18
Pre-order now!!!!

EXCERPT 1, Chapter 1

What the hell! Dan Malloy groaned in his sleep, his body covered in perspiration, the bedsheets twisted and caught between his lower legs. His breath came hard and fast. It felt as if his heart was going to rip out of his chest, the pounding so loud that it sounded like kettle drums pulsing in his ears. He heard the blades of the MH-47 Night Stalker he was flying. Heard the calm voice of his copilot, Lieutenant Andy Gantry, talking to the Special Forces A team hidden nearby in the inky darkness on a rocky slope in the Hindu Kush mountains. They had been out for nearly three weeks hunting HVTs, high-value targets.

The winds were erratic, trying to toss the bird around. His Nomex gloves were soaked as he gripped the cyclic and collective, his booted feet playing lightly on the rudders, trying to bring the helo in and not crash it.

His teeth ached, he was clenching them so tightly, his entire focus oriented to the green dials in front of him, trying to land safely to pick up the twelve-member team. The weather was stormy and quixotic, trying to throw Dan off course. Below, through his NVGs, he saw the chem lights tossed out by the A team to show him where to land. Sweat trickled down his temples. His nostrils flared as he smelled the kerosene used to power the MH-47. His only focus was landing this damned thing. Lightning flashed, blinding him momentarily.

Shit! Blinking, Dan halted his descent, trying to give his eyes time to adjust.

He knew that Taliban often camped for the night in nearby wadis that ran vertically up and down the rugged slopes of these mountains—and there was one within a thousand feet from where he needed to land. Dan wished for an Apache escort and an overhead drone right about now, but none had been available. A drone had infrared capability and would have been able to pick up the heat signature of anyone hiding nearby. The MH-47 had that same capability, but that instrument went belly up halfway to their assigned LZ, landing zone. Now, they were blind, and it bothered the hell out of him.

Dan mentally cursed, knowing that the inclement weather conditions would have torn the drone apart with the sixty-mile-an-hour wind gusts pummeling his helo, throwing it off course from landing, again and again. The storm was racing directly down at them—and it was a violent son-of-a-bitch. But Night Stalker pilots, the cream of Army aviation, were expected to fly through all weather conditions to pick up a black-ops group. These were brave men and women who got the job done, despite the challenges and potential life-and-death of their assigned mission.

His eyesight came back, and he began to breathe again, nudging his helo forward toward the landing zone once more. In the back of his mind, he knew if Taliban were camped in that nearby wadi that they could throw an RPG and AK-47 bullets at his bird. They would aim for the rotor assembly to stop the blades from turning. The MH-47 had two rotors, and one sat up near the pilot’s cabin, the other was near the rear of the helicopter. If either were hit by a bullet, they’d crash–and they’d all die.

Son-of-a-bitch. He’d been on hellacious missions before, but this one took the cake in his many years of experience. Thunderstorms would pop up at the most unexpected times simply because these dragon-toothed mountains made their own weather. Right now, he was at nine-thousand feet on a steep scree slope. The A team had found the levelest spot for them to land, but it was not level at all. They’d done the best they could, being hotly pursued by Taliban. Landing on a slope was perilous. It was possible, but with a thunderstorm looming over them, and the possibility of tangos in that nearby wadi, Dan knew they were trapped between a rock and a hard place. His chief gunner had the ramp down and was sitting behind the fifty-caliber machine gun, looking for the enemy.

Andy’s calm voice continued to give him directions and elevation. There was so much that could go wrong. His body was so tense Dan thought he might snap in half. His fingers ached, the perspiration making them slippery.

Come on…come on…

He focused again on the chem lights, tiny green dots on the black skin of the mountain slope. The wind gusts were powerful, and the bird shuddered violently. The engines changed and deepened, Andy played with the throttles between their seats, trying to give Dan the power he needed to neutralize the gusts.

Everything slowed down to movie frames for Dan as he eased his reluctant helo forward. Closer and closer, he inched the thumping, vibrating beast toward the LZ. Just let me get to it. Let me land without incident. His ears were keyed to the sound of the engines. The adrenaline raced through his bloodstream, heightening his clarity, making him aware of all sounds, smells, and sensations until his whole world became his senses. It gave him an edge. It allowed his hands to make the subtle moves on the instruments to get the bird on hard ground.

“Over LZ,” Andy reported calmly. “Ten feet…nine feet…eight feet…”

He couldn’t just swiftly plop the helicopter down. No, it had to go carefully, or he’d get into hover-out-of-ground effect, which meant the invisible cushion of air that the helo rode on, was suddenly gone. If that happened, the MH-47 would drop like a rock out of the sky.

“…seven feet…”

God, let me get this bird down. Let me get it down safely.

His hands ached, feeling like a raptor’s claws frozen around the instruments as he prayed to keep that cushion of air between them and the uneven, rugged ground. Sweat stung his eyes, and he blinked furiously, trying to clear his vision.

“…six feet…”

“…five feet…”

“…three feet…”

Dan felt the tires touch the slope.

At the same moment the bird touched down, a seventy-mile-an-hour gust slammed into the helicopter. Instantly, Dan felt the cant to his right, getting knocked over. His feet and hands acted in a blurred dance as he lifted the bird into the air, leaping skyward, trying to stop the blades from churning into the slope, shattering them into hundreds of razor-like pieces. He had no choice but to turn the helo, so the cockpit faced that wadi as he tried to grab ascending air coming up the slope to give him a lift instead of crashing.

Suddenly, the Plexiglas across the cockpit exploded inward. Thousands of small fragments rained down around Dan. He heard Andy give a squawk of surprise.

They were being attacked!

More bullets poured into the cockpit, singing past his helmet. He heard Andy scream. Heard sudden orders being roared to him by the A team on the ground.

And then, the fifty-caliber machine gun blasted through the darkened interior of the bird, hammering like pulses against Dan.

He took a huge risk, dropping the bird six feet. The helo slammed into the ground.

Dan groaned, the harness biting deeply into his shoulders as it hit the rocks. He saw the A team hidden nearby, firing their rifles in the direction of the wadi where the Taliban were attacking. He wanted to curse. There was no time!

The bird bounced up into the air. Dan used every skill he had to control the helicopter’s wobbling hop off the slope. Somehow—God only knew how—he got it back down on the earth, but it wasn’t where he was supposed to land.

More bullets snapped furiously through the cockpit.

Dan felt his right arm, the one holding the cyclic between his legs, go numb. When he tried to move it, there was no response. He felt warm blood pouring down his arm. Tried to force his limb to work. The helo was being brutally hammered with AK-47 fire.

Dan yelled at his two crewmen to egress. He swiftly shut down the engines, seeing Andy slumped to his left, his helmeted head resting on his chest, the harness still holding him in the seat. He needed to escape with Andy.

Suddenly, the whole night lit up with an RPG being fired. It missed the MH-47 by six feet, but the wall of fire raced toward the opened cockpit. Rocks sailed like missiles through the broken Plexiglas, striking Dan.

One moment, he was conscious. The next, his helmet was struck hard, snapping back his head against the seat, the force of it stunning him into semi-consciousness.

Stay tuned for the next excerpt!

BACK COVER COPY:
Sloan Kennedy and Dan Malloy met at Bagram and shared a passionate month-long affair. Their relationship was supposed to be no strings, but Sloan fell hard for the Night Stalker pilot. Things changed after the two were involved in a rescue mission that ended in the death of Dan’s co-pilot. Riddled with guilt over the accident and the loss of his friend, Dan walked away from Sloan and his military career.

Four years later, Dan is a pilot for Delos, flying team members to their various charities in Sudan. When chatter starts up that terrorists are targeting one of them, Dan is assigned a security escort from Artemis on his next mission. He is shocked when his bodyguard turns out to be the woman who has haunted his dreams for years — Sloan Kennedy.

Thrown together again, old feelings bubble to the surface, but danger is lurking nearby. Sloan and Dan will be lucky to walk away from this mission with their lives-and hearts-intact.


Sloan Kennedy was a badass and made no apologies for it.

LINKS:

Apple/iBooks
https://linkmaker.itunes.apple.com/en-us/details/1360421515?country=us&mediaType=books&term=Dangerous+by+Lindsay+McKenna&type=ebook

KOBO.com
https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/dangerous-66

BN.com
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/dangerous-lindsay-mckenna/1128209201?ean=2940159028648

RELEASE DAY! LONE RIDER by Lindsay McKenna

April 9, 2018

Hi Readers!!!

I’m always fascinated by how stress or when threat or real danger intrudes in on a person’s life. What do they do? How do they react to it? What does it do to their daily rhythm of life? How does it change. How do THEY change to the threat that stalks them.

As a romance novelists for 35+ years, I’ve been stalked several times. I can tell you that when ugly, threatening content came over my fax machine from one of them, I threw the fax machine away so I wouldn’t get them. I had gone to the police but they said without more info or the man actually attacking me, they couldn’t do anything until a crime was committed. Stupid and I was furious. I finally went to a friend where I lived, who had been in the FBI. I gave him the faxes and other information. He made a call. The faxes stopped. I never knew who my stalker was.

That was the first time. The second time, I had no idea that I was being stalked until I walked out the front door of our home one morning and there he was. He’d just rode in on a 2-mile dirt road on his bike-and found me. I was completely shocked and frightened. My husband was away on a business trip. I was alone. And I felt horribly stripped and vulnerable. I managed to put on a good mask of being upset and told him to leave or I’d call the police. That he was not welcomed on private property. He left. I collapsed and cried because I felt like a hunted animal with no weapons or way to stop him if he decided to do differently.

Because I’ve had too many times of being stalked, I wanted to write about it. In Lone Rider, Tara Dalton is a combat photographer over in Afghanistan. She’s not a helpless woman by any stretch. Eventually, PTSD makes it impossible for her to continue her military career and she comes home to Wind River Valley. She left at age 18 with a scarred past. She had been kidnapped at sixteen by a local Elson brother, who was into drug running. And he had been obsessed with her for years. And he did something about it. Tara manages to be found and rescued, but not before the scarring from such a capture would brand on anyone.

Now, at 28, she is home for good. And she’s coming back to the valley where she was born-and where she’d been kidnapped. Not having a choice, she tries to focus on the future, not the past. Getting a job at the Bar C, meeting Harper Sutton, a combat medic, now a wrangler, things look more even and ‘safe’ for her to adjust. She doesn’t expect to fall in love with this quiet cowboy who listens with his heart. He’s truly a healer, being a medic, and she begins to regain her strength and confidence in herself.

BACK STORY:

The new novel from the bestselling author of Lone Rider.

No one can outrun the past forever . . .

As a combat photographer in Afghanistan, Tara Dalton saw things she won’t ever forget, as much as she would like to. And after returning Stateside, she can’t fight her way past the PTSD that’s haunted her ever since. Desperate to make a change, she joins her old friend Shay at the Bar C Ranch, where a group of ex-military vets are putting their lives back together one step at a time—including one strong, gentle bear of a man who makes her feel safer than she has in years.

Harper Sutton fell farther than he ever imagined after his tour of duty as a medic was up, and he’s not proud of it. But at the Bar C, he’s doing work that means something, and he’s training to be a professional paramedic. That’s enough to concentrate on, until Tara comes to share his place at the ranch. The shadows in her eyes are darker than simply memories of war, and every moment he spends with her opens up parts of himself he’d thought long dead. But as Tara’s troubled past threatens the present, it will take trust in each other to fight for a future together…

Ebook/paperback/audio available 3.28.18

available now in ebook/paperback/audio
http://www.lindsaymckenna.com

RELEASE DAY on Lone Rider by Lindsay McKenna!

March 28, 2018

Hi Readers!

at last! RELEASE DAY for Lone Rider!
RELEASE DAY for Lone Rider by Lindsay McKenna!

At last, Book 5 of the Wind River Valley series is available in ebook and paperback! Audio, too!

Here is the Publisher’s Weekly review on it!

Available on all platforms!

I hope you enjoy reading Tara and Harper!

http://www.lindsaymckenna.com

Happy READING! Or Listening! 😉

Walking the Land with Me Podcasts

March 17, 2018

Hi Everyone! I’m going to be posting my podcasts on a little known area of my life. Having Eastern Cherokee heritage through my father’s side of the family, I was raised in the ‘old ways’ growing up. One of them was connecting and working with the land. In the Native American way of reality, “all our relations,” has a huge and important concept to us. It’s more than a ‘saying.’

Eileen Nauman out walking the land

All of our relations is that we believe all living things are part of a much larger family. Man is not at the pinnacle. Man is merely one thread of the weaving of Life on Mother Earth. And our ‘relations,’ include winged ones, four-legged, the fish, reptiles, the rocks, the rivers, the land itself, bushes, flowers, trees and anything else you can think of. I was taught at a very young age…seven years old, to ‘talk’ with my relatives. They were my other sisters, brothers, cousins, nephews and nieces.

Of course, talking with them was done either verbally or via telepathy. As a 7 year old I didn’t say that was impossible, because it was possible. I could ‘hear’ the tree talking to me, or a pebble I picked up on a dirt road and held in my hand. This growing up for me was a wonderful time because I had lots of parental trees who told me if something was dangerous to me or not, or a stream that warned me not to go into it because it was too deep and the current too powerful for me.

The concept for Walking the Land, and a subsequent book I’ve written on it (and it will be published later this year), entails information on how other people who love Nature, love hiking, love the land or perhaps are rock hounds, would enjoy knowing how to Walk it themselves, because you can.

I started this podcast Walking the Land with 15 minute segments about my experiences and how you can walk the land yourself. I put a new podcast up every Thursday at 7:00 p.m. MST (I live in Arizona and we do NOT have daylight savings time, fyi), on some element of Walking the Land.

If you find this interesting, please start with podcast #1 and proceed in order because I’m building a larger picture and how you can interact with the land and “all our relations,” too.

Jaguar mountain, Santa Rita Mountains, southern Arizona

Please SHARE.

PODCAST #1 what is Walking the Land? Part 1
http://walkingtheland.libsyn.com/episode-1-of-walking-the-land

PODCAST #2 What is Walking the Land? Part 2
http://walkingtheland.libsyn.com/episode-2-walking-the-land

PODCAST #3 Quartz crystal
http://walkingtheland.libsyn.com/episode-3-walking-the-land-quartz-crystal

PODCAST #4 Tools you’ll need to Walk the Land
http://walkingtheland.libsyn.com/tools-for-walking-the-land

PODCAST #5 How to use a pendulum, part 1
http://walkingtheland.libsyn.com/15feb2018-episode-5-how-to-use-a-pendulum-walking-the-land

PODCAST #6 Grid Lines
http://directory.libsyn.com/episode/index/id/6293873

PODCAST #7 1Mar2018 What is a vortex?
http://walkingtheland.libsyn.com/1mar2018-episode-7-what-is-a-vortex-walking-the-land

PODCAST #8 8Mar2018 What is an Androgynous Vortex?
http://walkingtheland.libsyn.com/episode-8-8mar2018-androgynous-vortexes-walking-the-land

PODCAST #9 How to Contact a Vortex Spirit Guardian or Guide
http://walkingtheland.libsyn.com/15mar2018-how-to-contact-a-vortex-spirit-guardian-or-guide-episode-9

Fall in the Tetons, Wyoming

RELEASE DAY! Sanctuary by Lindsay McKenna

February 1, 2018

RELEASE DAY! Sanctuary by Lindsay McKenna
Book 8, Delos Series
Romantic Suspense

Excerpt #1
https://wp.me/pBmdA-DpR
1.28.18
Exceprt #2
https://wp.me/pBmdA-DpV
Excerpt #3
https://wp.me/pBmdA-DpZ

Chapter 1 from Amazon:
https://www.amazon.com/Sanctuary-Delos-Book-Lindsay-McKenna-ebook/dp/B0774RG6S1/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1517494725&sr=8-1&keywords=Sanctuary+by+Lindsay+Lindsay McKenna

CONGRATULATIONS to all my readers who have impatiently waited for this ‘edge of your seat’ book!!! Happy reading!

#3 EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT from Sanctuary by Lindsay McKenna!

January 31, 2018

Sanctuary by Lindsay McKenna
Delos Series, Book 8
Release Date: 2.1.18

Pre-order now!
Paperback, ebook and audio

Tucking her phone into the white straw purse hanging over her right shoulder, Teren nodded. Again, women here never led the way; rather, they followed the men. She was curious about Nolan having been in Sudan before. He walked like he owned the place, but it wasn’t arrogance. It was utter male confidence of the finest kind. She’d seen that same type of confidence in Captain Taban, the man who had won her deepest respect. It was quiet authority that no one dared breach or challenge. And yet, when Nolan barely turned his head, she saw his profile, felt his protectiveness envelop her even though she was a few feet behind and to the left of him.

Farida, Kitra’s director, had been urging her to leave and go stateside, back to her family home in Somerset, Kentucky, but to do that, Teren would have to revisit her past. She’d grown up in the small town, mostly full of devout Christians, and their set of morals and values were strong and unwavering.

She’d honestly tried to live up to that impossibly high bar of expectations but had failed. Not only had she paid for it personally, she’d also lost the baby she’d been carrying. Teren had been profoundly shamed by her family, who had lived in that area for over a century. The generations before her had been hardworking farmers, plowing the land, raising cattle, and keeping their large families fed. To go home was to resurrect a past between her and her parents and the townspeople who lived there. None of them ever forgot-or forgave her for-the sin she’d committed.

Teren had tried to go home once, but after a few days, she felt the shame, the guilt, the horrible grief of loss, and she’d had to leave. And all the friends she’d grown up with were now married and had housefuls of children.

And here she was: single and alone-and lonely. But not lonely in all ways, because Kitra soothed her wounded heart and scarred soul. Her family loved her. They had tried their very best to move beyond their intractable beliefs to forgive her. Some days, Teren believed they had done it. Other days, it was painfully clear that the people in the community had not forgiven her for her actions. She was the town’s “bad girl” and her reputation was forever ruined. It was a sin that kept on giving, and kept resurrecting itself every time she was home. It was just too much for her to deal with.

As she passively followed Nolan, her mind lingered painfully on the past. Could it be that this crazy feeling had taken over because she hadn’t been home for the last three years? Talk about confusing! Teren had her life all sorted out, organized, every hour accounted for. She was needed, respected, and loved at Kitra. In fact, the village would plunge into chaos if she weren’t there with the magic of her computer skills, her knowledge of electronics, and the world at large, far outside the country of Sudan. Here, she had a sense of purpose and knew she made a positive difference, and that meant everything to her. She worked closely with women who had been badly abused, raped, or kidnapped and forced into sex slavery or marriage. Teren felt lucky in comparison to them. All she’d received was abuse and the loss of her baby. These Sudanese women, with fear embedded beyond their eyes, had fled to Kitra to heal, to be protected from abusive husbands and families, to learn a trade and then be able to confidently start their lives all over again.

Their children would not starve. The women would not be beaten again, or end up with a nose or ear cut off, or have acid thrown into their faces because they were “bad wives” to their husbands, or worse, stoned to death.

The village of Kitra was Teren’s life preserver, just as it was for the Safe House Foundation, whose entire reason for being here was to act as a protective haven for such women, no matter what tribe, skin color, or nationality they were. If they came to the gates of Kitra, small children or babies in arms, Farida’s team took the young mothers in. Then they were fed and received medical care, as did their children. Each woman was given a hut of her own, clean and with rugs on the hard-packed clay floor, and mats, mosquito netting, and sleeping bags for all. She was then taken to Samar, the female psychologist, who was thirty-five years old, but seemed like she was a thousand years old to Teren. Samar had even helped her sort out much of her own guilt and shame.

Her mind moved forward as they left the escalator, and she saw Nolan read the overhead sign written in Sudanese Arabic, telling him which carousel would be dumping out his luggage.

Teren again noted how few women were here at the airport. She disliked certain Sudanese traditions and longed for the freedom not to wear a tob or other concealing garments. Instead, she longed to throw her leg over a horse and wear her beloved jeans and sleeveless tees. She could do that at Kitra, but not outside the walls of the village, where she again adopted the bearing of a meek, subservient woman. It was the only part of working in Sudan that she rebelled against. On most days Teren could handle it, but on other days, not so much.

At least she had the freedom of American clothes and she could move freely about the huge, enclosed, thriving village. It felt wonderful. Right now, she longed to be back within the embracing walls of Kitra, wanted to tear this tob off her body, and toss it aside. But to do something that stupid would land her in Sharia court, and more than likely she would be publicly whipped or stoned to death for her insult to Islam.

There was just something about Nolan Steele that made her feel rebellious and want to throw off the trappings of her soiled past so she could feel free once more.

Nolan turned and eased the handle of his laptop bag into her hand. “Hold this for me for a moment? I see my luggage.”

Her fingers curved, closing around the canvas and leather handle. “Sure.”

He smiled at her then, that same deep warmth gleaming in the depths of his eyes, nurturing the spark of hope he seemed to bring her. Hope for what, Teren wasn’t sure, but there it was. Nolan walked toward the baggage carousel where she saw two green canvas bags. Vaguely, she remembered Ayman’s having had one too. They were called duffel bags by the U.S. military, if she remembered correctly. She watched as Nolan easily pulled them off the carousel, one in each hand.

“You okay carrying my laptop if I carry these?” he asked, halting in front of her.

She smiled faintly. “If I can wrestle a hundred-pound sheep to the floor of the shearing shed, I think I can handle a ten-pound laptop. Let’s go out those doors to your right. The parking lot is just across the roadway, and my hafla is nearby.”

“Sounds good. I’ll lead the way.”

Teren realized Nolan knew what a hafla was: a minibus that had a flatbed component, the most prevalent vehicle in and around Khartoum. She hadn’t been looking forward to teaching her security contractor about Sudanese customs after he arrived, and it was a pleasant surprise to know that he knew Sudan and its conventions.

Often, she had to drive into Khartoum to pick up items that required a flatbed truck. Kitra had no fancy cars, and her hafla had no air-conditioning in this ninety-five-degree Fahrenheit heat.

Teren breathed another sigh of relief as Nolan moved out of the cool air-conditioned terminal and into the dry, scorching sun overhead. She wondered what else he knew. How often had he been in Sudan? And why? Teren had lots of questions for him.

The corners of her mouth curved as she held the lightweight, floaty hijab to her head. It would be a sin in this country to have it slide off, revealing her hair.

http://delos.lindsaymckenna.com/book/sanctuary/